Timing 1 of 1 by Navygirl
by Navygirl
Summary: Things finally happen between Harm and Mac


Title: Timing  
Author: Navygirl  
Rating: PG-13  
Classification: Harm/Mac  
Spoiler: Starts after Hero Worship, so anything before that.  
Summary: A day at work leads somewhere when they finally have their timing in synch.  
  
Disclaimers: All characters of JAG belong to Donald Bellasarius and Bellasarius Productions; no copyright infringement intended.  
  
March 18  
JAG HQ  
Falls Church, VA  
  
Outside the window, birds were chirping and Spring flowers were blooming, but Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie and Cmdr. Harmon Rabb Jr. were up to their elbows in work. Together in the JAG library, they had spent the better part of the day working over the draft of an appellant brief, stopping only occasionally to check citations and grab cups of coffee. Sandwiches were brought in for lunch and they barely took the time to eat.  
  
Sitting side by side all day at the library table covered with books, they had worked. And, as the day continued, they seemed to draw closer and closer together. The time together soon becoming so intense, their bodies so close, that they could not even tease each other, could barely even look at each other. While their minds were focused as much as possible on making the final touches to improve the brief, each was utterly aware of the presence of the other, and the air was electrified when they spoke, he in his most hushed and husky voice, and she in a barely audible whisper, as if they were afraid to disturb the magic woven around them.   
  
Mac found the nearness overpowering, his breath so near her face, his smell, the hint of his aftershave, the subtle brush of his arm against her skin. When she finally found the courage to look at him, so close she could almost touch her lips to his cheek, he turned towards her and smiled. For a moment, a sweet sweet moment, she lingered in the thought of touching her lips to his, regs be damned. Suddenly shy, she looked away, but found that she was powerless to control the impulse to be close to him and found herself leaning closer to him, her heart crying out for his.   
  
"Stop it, marine," she said to herself, trying to understand how bliss could be such torture, such torment. She had to get past these feelings, she had to think, she had to work. She forced herself to read over and over the same parts of the brief, the words barely registering.  
  
But his voice broke through her discipline. "Mac," he whispered, "Sarah." And the heat in his voice drew her eyes up to his.   
  
"Yes," she said softly as she carefully raised her gaze to those mesmerizing eyes, hoping he would not see her tremble. She was puzzled and surprised because his eyes were twinkling with an inexplicable amusement. He smiled broadly, the same flyboy smile that always won hearts, and then he nodded and, with his eyes, directed her to look at where he was gazing, under the table.   
  
At first she looked and did not understand, but then she realized what she was seeing. Her black dress shoes, with her feet snuggly in them, were nestled on top of his, their ankles intertwined, like a pair of kittens snuggled together. How had this happened? Was this the product of a secret game their hearts had played while their minds were otherwise engaged?  
  
Without a word, she softly removed her feet and as she did so, something barely perceptible passed over his face, was it disappointment?  
  
Their ankles had been cozily interwoven, like lovers' curled up together in bed. She was so puzzled by this, her own body. How could she not feel her feet perched atop his, not even know she had slipped them there? Were they so close, in so many ways, that a part of her sought out of a part of him without her mind even knowing, without registering anywhere, on any level, except the ultimate level of the heart? She gave him a small smile, but she was aching from the love she held inside.   
  
"So, is that the pair of comfortable shoes you had in mind?" he asked with a cocky chuckle. "And am I…?" he whispered, but before he could finish, she looked away.  
  
Her sudden stillness left him speechless. What had just happened? What had changed? When she finally picked up the paper and sighed, looking at him, Harm said nothing, only nodded. He hated to see the day end, the heaven of being so close to Mac draw to a close, but clearly it was not ending happily. He tried again, in vane. "We could always go over it again," he said and winked, hoping she understood, willing her to smile.  
  
She responded by lingering, looking solemly into his warm eyes. At that moment, the pain of loving him, of it not being returned, was too much. It was unbearable. She rose from the table. "I'll give this to Tiner to finalize, so he can give it to the Admiral for approval."  
  
Regardless of what she felt, of how the day had left her, at first breathless and then swimming in the disappointment of unrequited love, the brief had to be completed. The Admiral expected it on his desk by morning. There were deadlines in the real world to be met.  
  
Harm sat in the library almost motionless after she walked away. Something had happened, suddenly, and the bliss had become a paralysis. What had changed in those few minutes? He knew they had reached a place in time, a moment to grasp, but he couldn't pin down what it required of him, or how to move. He literally could not move. When Sturgis stuck his head in the door and said goodnight to him, it was what he needed to shift enough to rise and leave. Mac had already gone for the night, he realized. She had left without speaking to him again, without waiting for him, and his heart felt bruised for it.  
  
2000 ET  
March 18  
Mac's apartment   
Georgetown  
  
The entire drive, Mac had been lost in thought, and now her apartment seemed so empty. "Just like my life," she thought.   
  
Inside, after feeding Jingo, she lit some candles, turned on soft music, and slipped into a warm bath, allowing her mind to drift over the moments of the day spent with Harm. The entire day of being absorbed by the paper they were completing, and the proximity of each other and the sweetness mixed with sadness that had brought to her.   
  
Earlier, as they worked together, she had felt it was such a magical, day. A day when just being together had left them almost speechless, yet intimate on another level, a level expressed by the desire to be near, the desire to be close. But then, it had suddenly changed, as it all became far too overwhelming.  
  
She realized that while she treasured the memory of being with him, so close to him, nearly a part of him, she could not stand the pain of the unexpressed emotions any longer. "I can't take much more of this," she yelled at the bathroom walls, slapping the sudsy water with her hands. "I want this to be something real, not just a flirtation. I can't keep kidding myself, he is not in love with me they way I am in love with him. It's just going to be Sydney all over again. I can't keep twisting in the wind, it is killing me." Bittersweet, she thought at the same time, the sheer passion of loving and wanting him.  
  
Then she remembered how he had waggled a way to come to her on the USS Guadalcanal, had tried to talk to her, had refused to let her run away from whatever their "relationship" was. He had come to the ship at the wrong moment; it was not the right time then for her, she thought. Timing again. Just like Sydney.  
  
Was he capable of loving her, was he capable of moving past this damnable stalemate? Lately, it seemed they had begun to put their friendship back together. She thought of the moments while they were on the USS Seahawk, and the tension of waiting for him to return in the crippled plane. At least they had found a way to joke afterwards, about the RIO, about her confidence in his flying. It was as if a certain peace had settled in then at least. But that was before she saw him flirting with Bobbi Latham's friend at the bar. She knew him, knew he was a man who flirted without thinking about what he was doing, like breathing, and knew that women always sought him out, but nevertheless, it had stung because it had happened when her heart was raw and her confidence low. Since then, she had been mired in thoughts that he had lost interest and moved on. She really didn't know if he was seeing Bobbi's friend, yet another blond, or anyone else for that matter. Had he moved on?  
  
Everything seemed somehow changed, almost too quiet between them. True there had been at least one storm to weather, the argument when she was called to testify against Bud, but the air they shared had become too still. Was he just trying to forget about it all and carry on with his life, without her?  
  
Briefly she reminded herself that the world had changed since September and that their roles had become more serious, but wasn't the fragility of life yet another reason to take hold of love when you found it?   
  
Wasn't he ever going to grow tired of throwing day after day away by not being together. Passing glances were not enough, not anymore. Not for her. And, if he was moving on, she needed to know that.  
  
And then she remembered the charity marathon, how she had told him they were back at the beginning. Had that somehow changed his attitude towards her, made him back away? The nagging thought would not leave. If so, it was her own fault, those were her words. Was that moment her own version of Sydney?  
  
The more she dwelled on what they were losing, what they were throwing away, what she had undone and left in shambles with her own confusion, the more the anger grew inside her, an anger born out of the frustration. After the horrible night of her rehearsal dinner, when he was lost at sea, when things had become so clear, why were they now, again, on a pointless merry-go-round leading nowhere? Why did she have so many feelings but could grasp at no understanding of where they stood anymore? Their whole relationship was just like the day they had experienced in the library – attraction followed by fear. It was probably her own damn fault, she thought, exhausted and sick of her own inertia, and his.  
  
Chagrined, she slipped into a robe and combed back her hair, feeling so much desire mixed with so much disappointment. So many nights of thinking of him, wanting him, wishing for him, and still they just danced away from each other at the same time they danced towards each other. How could this continue? It was driving her mad. It was making her furious. She picked up the comb and threw it as hard as she could. Then, with a determination born from the endless moments of frustration, she stormed to the phone, determined to set something in motion, to change their course once and for all.  
  
As she picked up the cordless, her hands ready to hit the speed dial button to call him, she was astonished to hear a voice on the line. "Mac?"  
  
"Harm?"  
  
In unison they said, "It didn't even ring." Before she could say anything more, he asked quickly, "Can I come in, I'm at your door?"  
  
"What?"   
  
"I'm at your door, I'm on my cell." She looked to the door where Jingo was standing at doggy attention, his nose pointing towards the handle.  
  
Her mind briefly flashed on the word, "timing." Tossing the cordless phone onto a chair, she crossed to the door, pulling it open to see him there, filling her doorway, the cell phone still at his face. Closing the phone, he quickly slipped into the apartment, petting Jingo without taking his eyes from her's.  
  
For a brief moment they just looked at each other, then he diverted his eyes, a shyness overtaking him. "I think we should talk, Mac," he said in a soft voice.  
  
She nodded, and both spoke at the same time: "We can't go on like this."   
  
"Well, at least we agree on that," she said seriously. Perhaps it was finally time to break down barriers, but she was unsure.  
  
Seeing her face, he sighed and walked to the window. "I'm not going to beat around the bush here, Mac, I was hardly able to think today, all day. I hope the brief doesn't reflect that."  
  
She was surprised by the admission. "The brief is fine," she said gently, "But I know exactly what you mean."  
  
"Then what happened?" He whirled to look at her, not angry but perplexed, and intense. "What happened at the end of the day that made all the peace between us go away in a heartbeat? I don't understand. Frankly, Mac, most of the day I wasn't thinking about work, I was thinking about….I was so enjoying the day working with you…"  
  
"Enjoying?" She cut him off, slightly amused at his choice of words. "Okay. I was 'enjoying' the day too, very much."   
  
"Mac, it was so good working together today, I thought about what you said at the marathon, that we were at a beginning…"  
  
"Yes, I said that, but it was ridiculous. We have baggage, lots of baggage. We can't forget all the years on this roller coaster."  
  
"Is that what happened today? Did our baggage get in the way?"  
  
"Not in the way, Harm. No, not in the way. You don't understand." This was so frustrating. She wanted to run into the kitchen and just leave him standing there. She wanted to run. No, that was not fair, he was trying. Running was her mechanism against facing this fear, she had to move bravely into what she wanted to say.   
  
"And, how can you not understand? We are just waltzing around the story here. Do you realize we don't need to talk about the little things, we need to talk about the real crux of this, this rela…situation?" She walked towards him, "If this was an investigation, well, we'd walk away talking about how the witnesses refused to focus on the question. We need to face the question between us here."  
  
"The real question," he nodded, looking at the floor.  
  
"Yes, the real question is what is going on between us?" There she said it, it sounded almost desperate but at least the words were out.  
  
"I think the answer is obvious, Mac," he said, taking a long breath. "I think." He paused, gathering strength to go on, "I think we may be in love with each other." He held his breath as he looked up from the floor to meet her eyes.   
  
This was not an admission as much as it was another question, but at least it was the right question. And, leave it to fighter jock and lawyer to word it just this way.   
  
"Well," she said, softening as she walked closer to him and put a hand on each of his arms. "If that's what this is…"  
  
"I hope that's what it is," he said, looking at her in a way that took her back to a ferry in Sydney. "God, Mac, I'm trying to open up here, but, I don't want to lose our friendship. I can't bear the thought of losing that, losing you."  
  
"We covered this on the Admiral's porch, remember," she said, rubbing his arms up and down. "It's worth the risk, Harm. We can't go on the way we are."  
  
"I wanted to have this talk the night I came home from the hospital, when Mic left, when you called me, but then Renee…"  
  
"Yes, Renee."  
  
"And then you went TAD…"  
  
"And you came to see me. If you had just give me some indication about her, if you had just said you'd give her up…"  
  
"I did, but you were already out the hatch."   
  
"You did?"  
  
"I came after you, remember, you were with Gunny. I wanted to talk. I wanted to tell you that of course I'd end it with Renee. And, of course, she took that matter into her own hands. But, that day, you refused to talk any more. I had so much to say to you."  
  
"I didn't want to talk. I didn't want anything except concrete action from you, Harm. I just wanted something real, some real indication, something I could hold on to. We had talked it out already, remember, at my engagement party." She paused, gathering her thoughts and her courage to forge ahead. "When we kissed, my heart was in it completely, and that scared me, here I was engaged to Mic. I had made a promise to him by agreeing to marry him."  
  
"Harm, I didn't want it to be a goodbye kiss, I didn't know what to do."  
  
He gazed at her for a moment, taking in what she said, then, finally able to breath again, he leaned towards her. "No more goodbyes," he said brushing her lips with a soft kiss, then encircling his arms around her. "Please tell me that I'm not alone in these feelings. Do you feel this way too?"   
  
"Do I feel this way too? Harm, I'm the one who thought it was only me, falling, falling hard," she said, gazing up at him. "I wasn't ready to admit to myself the depths of my feelings until after I came back from the TAD assignment, but the fear that you didn't feel the same way has been eating me up inside."  
  
He looked at her with astonishment. "It has?" When she nodded, he hugged her tightly.  
  
"You know, it's kind of sad, but I told someone that I loved you before I told you."  
  
"Who? Chloe?"  
  
"No," she chuckled softly. "Sturgis."  
  
"You told him, you told him that you were in love with me?" He chuckled as he tried to picture the conversation. "When was this?"  
  
"One day when we were working together. He asked about us, and the words just came out."  
  
Harm laughed, "You realize that you've told Sturgis this, but, you haven't actually told me, not yet, not really. You haven't said the words."   
  
She searched his eyes. "I do, I love you Harm."  
  
He smiled then, at the pair of chocolate brown eyes staring up at him, happiness welling up inside him. "I knew that."   
  
She playfully swatted his arm. "Well, saying that 'we might be in love with each other' isn't saying it either, flyboy."  
  
He chuckled. "Yeah, well, that's fighter jock speak, you have to understand these things, Mac."   
  
"So?" She looked up at him expectantly, and he waited, still smiling broadly, his eyes studying her. "So?" she asked again.   
  
"Nah, you just have to wait," he said, but when she started to back away at the words, the poorly chosen words, he grabbed her and pulled her back. "That's long enough." He said, kissing her gently, smiling at the same time. "I am very much in love with you, Mac," he whispered in her ear.  
  
Barely able to contain her tears, she leaned back to look at him. "You are?"  
  
He saw the brief hesitation, the moment of doubt lingering on her face. Was it because he had teased her a little too much. He reached up and brushed back a tear as it fell from her eyes, he wanted her to know how much he was feeling. "Sarah. You have my heart, you have had it for years."  
  
She smiled at him at last, and her heart melted when he added. "You are home to me, Sarah. I am going to love you until there is nothing left of me."  
----  
Comments welcome!


End file.
